Airport Poetry
by coolmarauders
Summary: Troy has a special question to ask Gabriella on Valentine's Day, but it turns out that she is leaving for California on that day. Let's hope his plan can be pulled off... Written for xFreakyPiccoloGirlx for the Valentine Fic Exchange.


**Disclaimer:**I own nothing from HSM.

**Author's Note:**This story is my first fluffy, romantic Troyella! It was written for xFreakyPiccoloGirlx for the Valentine Fic Exchange, organized by Dwilivia. She wanted travel, a lime green suitcase, and some humor in her story. The hardest for me was the humor, but I think I did pretty well on this. I'm actually rather proud of this piece. It was nice diving back in the world of fanfiction again. :) I hope you all enjoy this, especially you, Picc!

* * *

"Hey, Gabriella," Troy says casually into the phone, trying to give off an air of uncaring, but with just the right amount of… well, caring, so that she would not think that he was completely apathetic. (She would definitely know what that word meant, and she would throw it in his face.)

"Hi, Troy!" Her voice comes over the phone a little crackly, but still girlish and sweet. Troy can practically see the smile that spreads over her face when she is happy.

"So, do you want to study tomorrow after school?" he asks her, holding his breath just the tiniest bit.

"Wait, when is tomorrow?" Troy is confused – Gabriella always knows the date. In fact, he is the one who has to ask her for the date, so he can write the heading on his paper.

"Uh… I think it's the fourteenth?" There is a pause on the other line. He thinks that he can hear a muttered conversation between Gabriella and her mother. Why would she want to discuss studying? Gabriella was good at studying. She studied intently, and made Troy study intently as well. He liked studying when he was with her. She made it fun.

"Oh. I can't then. I'm leaving tomorrow."

"Oh, really? Where?" Troy is alarmed. How come she had never told him that she was leaving? Surprise trip, he guesses.

"Actually, we're going to California to visit my dad, right after school on Valentine's Day," Gabriella explains.

"Right."

"It's going to be tons of fun. I should start packing though. We're literally leaving right after school gets out," she says.

"Yeah, I should let you go pack," Troy stammers. "See ya tomorrow then."

"Bye!"

Click.

Troy stares at the phone dismally. He isn't just going to invite her to study tomorrow; he is actually going to ask her to be his girlfriend tomorrow. They have just been friends for a while – very romantic friends, as Taylor says – but he wants them to be more than just friends. _Very_ romantic friends, he supposes. He sighs heavily and places the phone back in its charger. He'll just have to think of another plan.

_-#-_

"So, wait, she's leaving?" Chad Danforth is the picture of confusion. His mouth is open, his eyes are dazed, and his mop of hair is being mussed in the wind.

"Yeah. Tomorrow. Right after school," Troy says glumly. Ever since that phone conversation, he has been racking his brain on what to do. Should he just wait to ask her? But it would be so much more romantic to do it on Valentine's Day, and Troy knows that Gabriella secretly reads cheesy romance novels that you can buy at the grocery stores. She would appreciate his romantic-ish side, he thinks, and his romantic side would be best brought out on the holiday of romance.

"So what are you going to do?" asks Chad. Troy rolls his eyes – if he knew what he was going to do, he would have told Chad. Simple as that.

"I don't know! I was hoping that you would have some ideas," Troy pleads with his best friend. Chad isn't always the best guy to go to for plans, but when he does get an idea, it is good. Really good.

"Um… Write her a cheesy love ballad and sing it to her as she boards the plane?" Chad suggests.

"Uh, no. I can't write songs. That's Kelsi."

"Get Kelsi to write a cheesy love ballad that you will sing to Gabriella as she boards the plane?"

"Do you think Kelsi would do that?" Troy is desperate; he would do nearly anything to get a plan to ask Gabriella to be his girlfriend on Valentine's Day. Even singing a cheesy love ballad would be fine with him, as long as it worked. He had already sung one with her before – you had to admit that "Breaking Free" was not cheese-free. It was nearly a fondue, actually. But it was a very fun and exciting fondue.

"Dude. I was kidding," Chad says. Now it is his turn to roll his eyes.

"Sorry. What should I do?"

"I don't know. Maybe you should ask Taylor. She's Gabriella's best friend, she'd know something about what she likes to do and what she would like you to do." Hey, another good idea from Chad! Troy claps him on the back and stands up from the stone stairs. He stretches out his back and brushes off his jeans. The stairs are not exactly clean, with all of the feet that trample them every single day.

"Where is she? Taylor, I mean," Troy says, scanning the crowd for a very professional-looking girl wearing a blazer.

"I don't know. Probably in the library or something like that," Chad says, still sitting.

"Thanks. I'll go find her now." Troy races off into the school in search of the one girl who could help him more than Chad could. Girls know girls well. Therefore, girls know romance well. And since Taylor and Gabriella were both girls that were very good friends, Troy assumed that Taylor would know a lot about Gabriella and what he should do. Man, this was turning into a huge deal, he thought. But having a girlfriend was a pretty big deal – he hadn't had very many "official" girlfriends in his life. There had been a few that you could call "friends with benefits" and then there were a few "almost-girlfriends" where he actually went on some fairly romantic dinners and movies. But he hadn't felt about them like he feels about Gabriella now. This is so much different, however cliché it is to say that. It is the truth.

The library is surprisingly crowded for this time of morning; there is still another half-hour until school starts. Most people come pouring in to finish last-minute homework at about ten minutes until school starts. (Troy would know – he has had that experience many times before.)

He walks along the aisles, looking for Taylor. She isn't in here!

"Gah!" Troy exclaims loudly enough for him to earn a glare from the librarian. She lifts her finger to her lips and gives him the universal sign for "shush!"

Several heads turn around to look at who got in trouble, many of them with smirks and looks of amusement on their face. Ha-ha, look at Troy Bolton getting in trouble! Troy glares back at them until he spots a very familiar face: Taylor! How could he have missed her? Oh. She's not wearing a blazer. That's very unusual – Taylor likes blazers a lot.

"Taylor!" Troy nearly yells, getting more than a glare this time.

"Be quiet in the library!" the librarian hisses at him. More kids snicker at him.

"What is it, Troy?" Taylor asks in a quiet voice, looking fairly mortified.

"I need help!" He takes the empty seat next to her and turns the chair so that he is facing Taylor. She still looks annoyed, but seems a little softened to his plight.

"What, with chemistry or something?"

"No, I mean I need help with Gabriella!" he explains.

"What do you mean, you need help with Gabriella?" she snaps at him. Uh-oh. She sounds mad now.

"She's leaving tomorrow right after school and I was going to plan a big thing so I could ask her to be my girlfriend!" says Troy emphatically.

"Oh my god! That's so cute! On Valentine's Day, too! Aw, Troy!" Taylor must have a soft spot for romance as well. She seems more excited than Troy would have thought about him asking Gabriella out. He would of thought that she might have been a little against it, or at least not wholly happy about it. But it's good that she's happy, because then she can help him!

"But what should I do? She's going to California to visit her dad right after school. Literally right after school, she said. To the airport," he says.

"Oh. That's kind of a problem." Taylor bites her lip. "Um. What could you do…"

"That's what I am trying to figure out here!" Troy says, making wild gesticulations.

"Okay, okay, calm down. We'll figure it out. Oh. You mean, today?" Taylor asks, her eyes wide.

"Oh. Wow. I hadn't realized that. It's today!" Troy starts being even crazier about this whole ordeal – he only has seven hours to figure this out!

"Okay, then. Even less time than I thought," Taylor says.

"Great. Chad says that I should ask Kesli to write a love ballad and that I should sing it to her as she gets on the play," he informs her.

"You asked _Chad_ about this?" Taylor asks, raising her voice a fraction in disbelief.

"Well, yeah," he says sheepishly.

"I suppose it would be a good idea," she admits, "but Kelsi can't write that fast. She takes a while to write songs – she waits for inspiration. And anyway, you'd have to project a lot to get Gabriella to hear you when you aren't allowed to be in the boarding area when you aren't actually getting on the plane. And honestly, Ryan would probably be able to be louder than you in that situation."

"Hey!"

"Just telling the truth here. So that idea is out. What else is there… it needs to be romantic… do you have a suit?"

"Yeah, I think I do. Oh yeah, I used it for my aunt's wedding in the fall. It'll still fit, probably," Troy says.

"I've got an idea."

_-#-_

"Hey Troy!" Gabriella says as she and Troy walk to their English class. She has just come from gym and is flushed and bright.

"Hi. Happy Valentine's Day," Troy says. It is routine to say that to pretty much every girl he sees during the day, seeing as they say it to him first. They are especially flirty today as well. Sharpay had the most holiday spirit of all of them, though. She was wearing an entirely pink-and-red outfit, and blew Troy a kiss as she saw him, mouthing the words "Happy Valentine's Day" as the "kiss" floated in the air. He could only help that she blew a kiss to every boy she saw during the day.

"Thanks, you too. I'm sorry I can't study with you tonight, but I'm really excited to see my Dad!" she says, nearly skipping down the hall.

"How often to you get to see him during the year?" Troy asks. Gabriella doesn't talk about the divorce of her parents much – apparently her grandparents, who were very devout Catholics didn't approve of it – but when she talks about her dad, she is always animated and excited about it.

"Not very often. It's expensive to fly out to California a lot, and my grandparents are not going to lend us money to do that, of course," she explains. "Still, I'm going to stay for two weeks. I already have all my homework from my teachers, so I won't fall behind in my studies."

"Should be fun," Troy remarks.

"It'll be loads of fun!" Gabriella exclaims.

"Are you going to go to Disneyland?"

"Probably not. I'm not much of a ride person, and it's pretty far from where my dad lives."

"You don't like rides?" Troy asks. He didn't know that. She seemed fine at the ski resort – not that he actually saw her ski or snowboard, though. She could have been very different on the lifts. Sometimes they even made him a little nervous, especially when they didn't have lap bars and when they shook. He shuddered just thinking about it.

"No. I'm hate throwing up and I always think that I'm going throw up when I go on them," she clarifies.

"Oh. I never knew that," he says. They arrive at the classroom, still talking about rides and fairs and things like that. Sitting in their usual seats – two right next to each other in the middle two rows in the middle of the room – they continue talking until the bell rings. All through their conversation, a growing feeling of apphrension grows within Troy. What if she says no or the plane leaves early or something? Then he wouldn't even get a chance to put his – well, Taylor's plan, really – into action.

"When does your plane leave?" he asks right before the teacher asks for quiet.

"Four," she whispers back and then faces front, ready for class to begin.

Four. That would give him plenty of time.

_-#-_

"So did Troy tell you about our plan?" Taylor asks Chad during lunch.

"What plan? We don't have any classes together until after lunch," Chad says confusedly. He chomps on a huge bite of his salami sandwich and waits for Taylor to launch into an explanation.

And explain she does. The whole layout of the plan takes a couple of minutes, and Taylor often trails off into little thoughts that have nothing to do with Troy and Gabriella. Chad often has to prod her to continue with the oral blueprint.

"Wow. That'll be nice if he can pull it off," Chad says when Taylor's spiel is all done.

"I know. I hope it'll work," she says, looking straight into his eyes. Chad isn't half-bad looking, she notices. Not as bad as I thought, she thinks. Maybe he's not quite as stuck up and stupid as I thought either.

She shakes her head. Get rid of those thoughts, she tells herself. It's about Troy and Gabriella today. Give yourself some other time.

_-#-_

Sixth period is almost over, and Troy is getting agitated. He taps his feet on the floor, making abstract rhythms with no patterns until his teacher sends a glare over his way. With the absence of motion from his feet, his hands and his pencil tap out the beat to "Breaking Free." Even a few weeks after the show is over, the songs will not leave his head – Ryan says that it is a talent to be able to not have the songs play in your head nonstop. A talent acquired with much practice. One musical doesn't really count as a lot of practice, Troy thinks sadly. He glances at the clock – it's two-ten. Only fifty more minutes until he needs to race over to his house to get a suit. Gabriella will be heading over to the airport right after school, he guesses, so he should have a few minutes to get ready, if he gets dressed on the car. Chad can drive him; he's gotten changed for basketball practice many times in front of him, and one more time in the car can't hurt.

He looks at the clock again. One fifty-eight. Only two minutes? Those last thirty minutes are going to be killer, especially in trig. He sighs and sinks down low in his seat, twirling his number two pencil around in his fingers. It had been a big trend in his sophomore year to twirl your writing utensil around your fingers over and over again, and the skill never really left him. It's something to pass the last two minutes of class away with. There never really was a comeback for it.

_Bring!_

Troy leaps out of his desk and nearly runs to the door – he's the first one out. Chad is in his last class, and they need to discuss the last-minute details of his romantic, ask-Gabriella-out plan. He needs to be at the airport as soon as he possibly can be, without speeding or getting in trouble with the police in any other ways. And knowing Chad, that could be a bit of a problem.

"Chad!" Troy grabs his friend's arm and spins him around.

"What is it, dude?"

"We need to go over the plan. Now," Troy orders, just as the teacher yells for the class to sit down. There are still three minutes left until the bell will ring and class will officially start, but the trig teacher is extremely strict. The two sit down immediately, not wanting a detention on this important day.

Throughout the class – it's a review day, so they aren't doing anything important – Chad and Troy whisper about what they need to do. Thankfully, the teacher doesn't catch them and they are even able to get a few problems done with the spare time they have left.

_-#-_

"Bye, Troy!" Gabriella calls to Troy as her mom drives up in the front of the school. He waves goodbye to her, and turns to face Chad, giving him the thumbs-up sign. It's time to go.

Without seeming too eager and too much like they actually have a plan to do something, they walk to Chad's new car and climb in. He speeds away, heading for Troy's house.

"So how long are you going to take to get this suit of yours?" Chad asks, raising an eyebrow in the rearview mirror at Troy.

"I'll try to hurry. I think I know where it is – my mom put it in my closet, I think," Troy answers, gripping the armrest tightly. His heart feels like it is going to pound out of his chest.

"Well, you had better hurry. The airport isn't as close as it should be to your house," Chad warns.

"Yeah, I know. I'll hurry."

They drive the rest of the way in silence. Troy is running over the plan in his head, going over each step and what it should – and hopefully what it will – look like. He can picture Gabriella's shocked expression, and then her eyes softening and her lips forming the beautiful word "yes."

That's if all goes according to plan, of course.

Chad is just concentrating on going fast without speeding. It's a fine line to walk – drive, actually – and sometimes it's pretty hard to not go too far to one side or the other. They arrive at Troy's house seven minutes after two-forty – two minutes earlier than they had predicted.

"Run! Run!" Chad prods Troy. He runs out of the car and into his house.

"Hi, Ma!" Troy yells, opening the unlocked door and sprinting into his room. He doesn't even take his shoes off like his mom likes him to. All he can think about is getting that navy blue suit out of his closet and onto his body. That, and Gabriella, of course.

His room is a mess, just like always, but Troy wades through it and opens his closet door. It matches his room on the scale of cleanliness. He digs through the mounds of clothes and tries to find where he put that suit. Was it on a hanger? Please say it was on a hanger. No wrinkles, please.

With a cry of discovery, he lifts the suit up in his hands.

"Yes!" he bellows.

And, just as he entered, he leaves – running.

"Bye, Ma!" he says as he runs out of the house.

"Bye, Troy! When will you –"

But he doesn't hear the rest of his sentence; he is already out of the door and heading to Chad's car.

"Got it!" he says as Chad opens the door for him.

"And in only three minutes, too!" Chad says with just a hint of sarcasm.

"Get moving!" says Troy. He leaves his seatbelt off and immediately pulls off his pants, revealing blue boxers.

"Why don't you," mutters Chad. Troy rolls his eyes, and pulls on the only slightly wrinkled suit pants. They still fit, thankfully – his growth spurts seemed to have stopped. Next, the t-shirt comes off, and on goes the white and blue striped button-up shirt.

"How much farther, Chad?" Troy gasps, his head somewhere in the shirt.

"Not too much farther. But now I know how my parents felt when they took us on car trips," he says.

"I've only asked once!" protests Troy.

"Yeah, I know. Just kidding."

His fingers trembling just the slightest bit, Troy pulls on his jacket and starts on his tie. How do these go again? Troy struggles to remember how to actually tie a tie as Chad looks on, wordlessly. Apparently, he hasn't tied a tie for a while, either.

"We're here."

"Thank God," Troy says. His tie is finally on straight. "You have the flowers and the chocolates, right? Got them during free period? Not melted and wilted?"

"Yes, yes, and no. No melted chocolates, no wilted flowers. Only the best for the happy couple," Chad says sourly.

"Come on, Chad, you can ask Taylor out after this, okay? Just please try not to be too annoyed!" Troy begs him.

"Sorry. Tired today. And I'm not going to ask Taylor out."

"Sure. Whatever. Just drive."

It takes them another ten minutes to get to the airport. Traffic on the way isn't as clear as they would have liked, but they make do. Troy frantically tries to make him presentable in the small rearview mirror as they drive; it is pretty hard to see yourself in such a small mirror. If only Chad could have a full-size mirror installed in front of the passenger seat.

"We're here," Chad announces as they drive up to the airport. Troy sinks down into his seat and finishes tying his left shoe – right first, left second, as always. The shoes are slightly scuffed, but Gabriella wouldn't notice that, would she?

They launch out of the car and head towards the airport. Chad is exceptionally good at finding supreme parking spots, Troy notices. They don't have to walk very far to get to the front doors. Troy starts in at a bit of a jog, his nervous energy cooling off as he runs. Chad runs faster than Troy, getting ahead of him, to see if Gabriella is there.

"She's not here!" he yells back at his friend, who is trying to not trip on his pants and hurry at the same time. It actually takes quite a lot of talent and effort.

"Crap!" Troy swears, or as close to swearing as crap is. "You keep checking in the lines, and I'll wait in here in case she's just not here yet. It's only three and her flight is at four. She could still be coming…"

Chad dashes off, checking in all of the lines for a petite, Hispanic girl. She isn't in any of the lines that he can see. He runs faster, ignoring the stares, and hopes that Gabriella isn't already checked in and waiting. It would completely ruin the whole plan.

Troy waits nervously, shifting his weight from foot to foot, and wishing that the flowers won't wilt or spill on his suit. He runs over the plan again, for the hundredth time, and wills Gabriella to get here _now. _The flowers and the chocolates switch in his hands; his arms are starting to get tired from holding them. Who knew that a dozen red roses could be so heavy? Same goes for a big, heart-shaped box of dark chocolate truffles – Gabriella's favorite brand.

The door opens. He catches his breath, closes his eyes, and waits to hear the sound of her voice…

Not her.

His eyes open, and he sees that it is an old lady who came in, dragging her grandchildren by the hands over to the ticket registration counter.

_Shoot. _

But wait – the door opens again. The swoosh of the automatic sliding doors is for once a sound of hope, not just of entrance. He hears talking and strains to see who came in. At just the right moment, an extremely tall man stepped right in front of Troy, and he can't see the people.

"I'll miss you, Mama," says someone – a girl. The voice sounds suspiciously familiar…

"Gabriella!" Troy shouts, and leaps out from behind the tall man.

"Troy?" Gabriella gasps. She takes in his dapper appearance and her jaw literally drops open. "What are you… doing here?"

"I came to see you off." He takes a deep breath, trying to get some air into his empty lungs. He feels more nervous than he has ever felt, even more nervous than when he played in the championship game, even more nervous than on opening night. His legs are shaking and it almost feels like he is going to wet his pants.

"But… why? You said goodbye to me at school…" Gabriella trails off. She stares at the candy and red roses in his hands. "Troy, who are those for?" Her mom waits on the sidelines, looking apprehensive, but still very happy.

"Gabriella," says Troy, "I have something to say to you."

"Go ahead then." Gabriella's hands are on her hips now, making her look a little bit irritated.

"'I love you first: but afterwards your love, 

_Outsoaring mine, sang a much loftier song_

_As drowned the friendly cooings of my dove._

_Which owes the other most? my love was long,_

_And yours one moment seemed to wax more strong;_

_I loved and guessed at you, you construed me_

_And loved me for what might or might not be– _

_Nay, weights and measures do us both a wrong._

_For verily love knows not "mine" nor "thine";_

_With separate "I" and "thou" free love has done,_

_For one is both and both are one in love:_

_Rich love knows nought of "thine that is not mine";_

_Both have the strength and the length thereof,_

_Both of us, of the love that makes us one.'"_

His voice shakes just the smallest bit at the end, a tremor due to nervousness. Gabriella stands in one place, her mouth open, and – is that a tear in her eye? Her hands still grip the lime green suitcase that she came in with, so hard that her knuckles turn white.

"Gab – " Troy starts to ask her after three minutes of total speechlessness from her.

"How did you know?" Gabriella chokes out, wiping her eyes. "That is my favorite poem. Ever. Where did you find it?"

"Monna Innominata: A Sonnet of Sonnets by Christina Rossetti. Taylor told me how you've been reading her stuff nonstop and I thought that it would be… nice; I guess…" he trails off again, seeing her shocked and teary expression. His hands, still holding the flowers and the chocolate, are shaking now, really shaking. Sweat is starting to pool in his armpits; he hopes that it doesn't leave a stain on his jacket and shirt.

"Oh, Troy, why did you do this?" Gabriella cries out. Slow tears are still dripping down her face. She wipes her face again with the back of her hand, but still tears come creeping down.

"Because… I just wanted to ask you…" He can't finish. She is going to say no. He can feel. She isn't going to say yes.

"Ask me what, Troy," whispers Gabriella. Her breath is heavy with anticipation; it comes in quick bursts and she doesn't think her heart has ever beaten this fast ever before in her life… let him ask, let him ask, let him ask, let him ask, she desperately begs in her mind.

"If you would be my girlfriend?" That's it. The words are out. There's no stopping it now.

"Of course, Troy!" she sobs. "How could I say no?" She is really crying now, not just dripping a little bit. Those are real sobs – sobs of joy, Troy takes it, not of sadness. She throws her arms around him and hugs him so tightly that he is forced to drop the flowers and the candy. Unbeknownst to them, Ms. Montez creeps over and picks them up, smiling so hard that it looks like her face could break. The couple hugs for a minute, and then Gabriella lifts her head up. Even though she is still crying, she grins up at Troy.

"Guess this means more study sessions, right Troy?" she asks saucily.

As an answer, he kisses her. Their first real kiss. It is so sweet that it could almost be traded in for the chocolate. Gabriella doesn't need chocolate or flowers now, she realizes. All she wants now is to spend time with her boyfriend. Her boyfriend. The words feel incredible rolling off her lips. They feel like they were meant to be there, destined to be spoken with Troy's name following right after. She backs away, a little shyly, and looks into Troy's eyes. They are happy eyes, elated blue eyes that match her own joyful brown eyes. Those two pairs of eyes close again as they kiss again, more deeply and more roughly, even though Gabriella's mother is standing right next to them.

And speaking of Ms. Montez, she clears her throat, as the kiss is obviously more passionate.

"Sorry, Mama," Gabriella says, her arms still wrapped around Troy. She blushes, as does Troy.

"We need to get going," she gently reminds her daughter.

"One sec," Gabriella promises. "I'll meet you at the ticket registration thing, okay?"

"Be there quickly," her mother warns, and then leaves.

Troy stands, silent. He can't believe that it actually happened. She actually said yes. He can't believe that she would say yes.

"Thank you," he murmurs into her citrus-scented hair.

"I should be thanking _you_," she counters, giving him an impish grin.

They kiss again, feeling freer now that Gabriella's mother is gone. She pulls away reluctantly, knowing that her mother will be coming to find her soon.

"I have to go," she says.

"I wish you didn't," says Troy, sticking out his lower lip.

"Oh, stop that," she teases him and slaps his arm playfully. "I wish I could stay to, but I really want to see my dad."

"It's only a week," he sighs, and hugs her one last time. "I'll miss you. Get me a souvenir."

"Snow globe, it is then. I'll miss you too."

They stand just staring at each other for a minute, lost in rapture. This moment that has been dreamed about for so long – ever since the ski trip – has finally come true. And now that it has come, it has to leave immediately. Of course.

"I'll miss you… good bye," Troy says, and watches as Gabriella walks over to her mother. She is walking backward, looking at him the whole time. She puts her hand to her mouth and blows him a kiss. He wishes that the kiss could come flying forward – or, more to the point, Gabriella could come flying forward and plant the kiss on him herself. He waves one last goodbye to her, before Gabriella turns away and finds her mother.

A sigh expels from his mouth. A happy sigh, not a disappointed sigh. How could he be disappointed with this? He would be crazy to not be happy with this outcome. He takes long, loping steps around the airport, feeling like he could float up into the sky. There is a bounce in his step, almost literally.

Now all he has to do is find Chad.

* * *

A couple ending comments. 1: I hope that wasn't too fluffy! I personally am not a big fan of fluff, but when I try to write it, it comes out in large quantaties. 2: The poem really is by Christina Rossetti, who is one of my favorite poets. Thanks for reading, and constructive criticism is _always_ welcomed.

--prongs


End file.
